


Office Party Scandal

by fromstars



Category: Selfie (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Comedy, F/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2853125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromstars/pseuds/fromstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a second breakup with her man of the month Freddy, and the rejection of bonafide office stud Henry Higgs, the social network savvy Eliza Dooley is ready to switch gears and gun for a promotion. And with her New Year's Resolutions, things seem to be going rather smoothly.</p><p>Rather smoothly, that is, until corporate calls in a lawyer from a New York firm, and in walks Henry’s spoiled playboy little brother, Richard Higgs. Becoming the apex of a longstanding sibling rivalry was not in the plan, but what’s a girl to do when she’s caught between a set of rock solid abs and a hard ass hottie?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Candyman Scandal

**Author's Note:**

> End notes address the rating of this fic, and any other tid-bits. Enjoy!

_Henry says the best way to start a New Year is to think “out with the old, in with the new.” And while I wasn’t going to give up my lucky college miniskirt, I totally understood what he meant. I was going to have to start making some more changes. Henry also said he believed in New Year’s presents, and that he hoped it made up for our awkward Christmas season. Turns out he bought me a suuuuper old-fashioned mother of pearl fountain pen (not gel ink – I checked) and a journal for my 2015 goals and accomplishments._

_Give a girl the chance to make a New Year’s Resolution, and she’s got to do it or face crushing guilt come February. And I was not going to spend the shortest month of the New Year kicking myself for not beginning by hashtag winning. I also appreciated Henry’s weirdly clunky analogue journal (soft lavender leather and gold trimmed pages) and pastel pink personal planner, because with the changes I had in mind, I couldn’t just tweet my hashtag workspo hashtag NYEResolutions hashtag bodyspo for the whole world to see. My business? -- was now on the D.L._

_I had to be subtle._

_So like when Kristen Stewart had Cedric Diggory as her rumpled Vampire boyfriend, I knew exactly three things:_

_First, I had to Elle Woods Freddy’s ass._

_Second, there was a part of me that knew I probably also had to up my work game -- if I was ever gonna get promoted as rightful top sales rep -- and I was definitely out for blood._

_And third, I was still unconditionally, indubitably, undoubtedly, and legit-ly into office stud Henry Higgs._

_It was time to work my long game on him._

* * *

It’d taken nearly an hour to lay down the hot pink duct tape across her floor, but Eliza figured it was necessary. The last time she’d had her next-door neighbor Bryn and coworker Charmonique in her apartment, they’d nearly killed each other. And since she didn’t want to have to wash the blood of an etsy hipster and a street smart administrative assistant out of her carpets every time she had them over, Eliza needed a working solution. This time, she was going to put a literal dividing line between them.

And then pray that something as flimsy as tape was actually going to work.

“Just,” Eliza said carefully as Charmonique and Bryn eyed each other. “Stay on your sides of the pink line.”

Charmonique gave her a dubious look and scoffed. “I will, if she will.”

“Same,” Bryn said tartly. “I mean, I think this is ridiculous, but some of us just can’t control themselves—“ 

Eliza cringed. The last time Bryn had been over, she’d begun to insinuate that Charmonique was ‘sassy’ but she’d barely managed to get the ‘ass’ in ‘sass’ out of her mouth before Charmonique had decked her. Not being the most self-aware person didn’t mean Eliza didn’t realize that Charmonique had done so with good reason. Even Eliza hated to be typecast. And while she didn’t want to say that Bryn was the only one instigating trouble, she also wasn’t about to let it slide when she did.

“Guys!” Eliza threw up her hands. “Focus! I need help with dealing with my Freddy sitch before 2015.”

 “Um, Eliza,” Bryn said, leaning back on her half of the plush couch. “Today is New Year’s eve. And I need to get ready for my own evening.”

“And I couldn’t get a babysitter for the office party. You haven’t even told us what the sitch with Mister Man is.” Charmonique said. Eliza watched as Charmonique adjusted her purse, and gave her an exasperated look. Charmonique hadn’t exactly wanted to hit up the New Year’s office party, so Eliza was keeping her from getting home to a night in and away from half drunk drivers on the road. It had made her less than impressed. And definitely annoyed. She needed to act quickly while she still had her only source of bad ideas still in the room.

“I just need advice,” Eliza said. “I have to pull the band-aid again with Freddy. It’s my first New Year’s resolution.” And one that she’d intended to take care of long before the party, but somehow had just managed to awkwardly back out of repeating the mess of breaking up with him all week long.

It wasn’t exactly easy, given that she knew just how many cubicles away he was, and that he texted, tweeted, and snapchatted her at like every minute of the day. But short of throwing her phone in the water fountain outside the office complex a la Andie in The Devil Wears Prada, Eliza wasn’t going to truly escape her current paramour’s incessant rambling and obnoxious sexts. And poorly worded come-ons. And grammatically incorrect dirty talk, which was more aggravating than it was sexy.

And really horrific open-mouthed chewing.

“I just, I know it looks like I’m afraid to commit, but last week he suggested it might make me more comfortable if he saw other women as well—“

There it was. The ultimate of all deal breakers. Freddy had suggested being serious, but didn’t actually care about anything that wasn’t about sex and the way his muscles looked when he flexed them in front of Eliza’s bedroom closet mirror. For himself.

“—Oh hell to the no,” Bryn snapped, sitting upright. Her hair fell into her eyes for a moment before she pushed the strands back from her thick plastic framed glasses. “Are you serious? Who is this guy anyways?”

 “He’s a solid seven on the hottie scale at work,” Eliza said, sitting down on the plush ottoman she’d placed over the duct tape dividing line between her neighbor and her coworker. A year ago, this would’ve rated more like a nine, and she would’ve really only cared about that, but somewhere along the lines, Eliza found that Freddy didn’t quite meet her standards anymore. He dropped rank. Worse, Freddy had put the bae in basic. Which was not at all ideal.

“And has an Adonis belt, and a killer jawline,” Charmonique supplied. Eliza nodded carefully, biting her lip. She took a deep breath, and then continued.

“And says he wants to spend all his time with me but…” But. Well. Eliza still didn’t want to spend the rest of forever with Freddy. Not just because she was falling for Henry Higgs, marketing executive extraordinaire, but because Freddy was so obviously not right for her. Even if Henry had turned her down, flimsily excusing it with Eliza’s inability to commit to Freddy, it was clear that Freddy was not the right person to even be committing to.

 That didn’t have anything whatsoever to do with the way Henry’s arms looked when he rolled up his sleeves, or his thick and glossy black hair had that was always so neatly brushed and that she just wanted run her hands through while kissing him senseless. This was completely unrelated to the full body tingle Eliza felt whenever Henry smiled at her, or because of her, or even just vaguely looked in her direction and then said Hello in that oh-so-perfectly Henry way of his. Like he was a friggin’ Lord straight out of England or something! Her needing to dump Freddy was one-hundred percent not about Henry’s warm, inviting voice and tuggable ties. It had nothing to do with that. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

 This was about Freddy.

 _Mostly_.

“He’s just not serious boyfriend material. I mean he like, just wants the excuse to suggest threesomes. And lately? I can’t even fake having an earth shattering orgasm.”

“Did not need to know that,” Charmonique interjected.

 “The point is,” Eliza said, “Any advice to making sure he gets the picture – without destroying personal or public property?” Anything besides arson was beginning to look like a good idea.

“I ain’t gonna wingman your breakup. I am booked for the night.” Charmonique said, shouldering her supple leather purse. “I have to go keep a small person to keep alive.” She stepped purposefully over the pink line Eliza had marked out onto Bryn’s ‘territory’ causing the other woman to scowl in response. Charmonique brushed off her shoulder, and turned to Eliza, looking her dead in the eyes.

 “Put on your big girl panties and some game music and do it yourself. And stop complimenting his cologne to distract him! Every time Freddy walks by at work, it smells like the inside of an Axe commercial. I’m out.” Charmonique mimed dropping a mic onto Bryn’s side of the floor. And before Eliza could manage a proper goodbye, she let herself out of her apartment with one last semi-threatening glance tossed Bryn’s way.

Eliza sighed. 

“Maybe you could like, start an a capella rendition of Rascal Flatt’s ‘I’m movin’ on’?” Bryn offered.

 

* * *

 

For a girl who liked New Year’s eve and any excuse to pop them bottles, Eliza spent most of her day ducking (alone!) into supply closets and outright fleeing from any passerby instead of getting in the holiday spirit. Pre-game? Wasted. She’d been able to relax when she was at her apartment with Charmonique and Bryn, but once she was standing with champagne in hand at the party, she found herself briefly considering losing her phone in someone’s bubbly to really avoid Freddy’s texts.

_Just this once. And then I could get an iPhone 6._

Scanning the room, Eliza tried to strategize her exits. The goal had been to break up with Freddy before the New Year’s Eve party, but she’d chickened out. And now, the clock was up and she was seriously jonesing for an excuse to get out of it. Freddy was late, but she’d expected it. He’d gram’d him and his “boys” taking shots at the bar a block over. Last year, Eliza might’ve been the pretty girl across the room there with him. Right now, however, she was just grateful he had terrible balance when drunk and was probably going to get lost once or twice before making it to the Kindercare party. Maybe even fall on his face, if she was lucky. 

Eliza fidgeted, tugging her gold dress down. It was – strictly speaking – just over her clothing budget for the month. After trying it on though, she couldn’t bear to put it back on the rack. It was everything she was trying to aim for without feeling like she’d walked off the set of Downton Abbey. The dress was a heavy weight jersey blend with metallic golden thread (way classier than sequins), with a bias cut to emphasize the booty bump and push up bra she was wearing. The v-neck of the wrap also did her favors, but wasn’t showing off too much cleavage with the cute beaded lace camisole she was wearing underneath. It sadly, didn’t have pockets, but it had sleeves that met her elbows and was just a tad too short to be regular work attire.

It definitely did not meet Henry’s suggestion of appropriate hemlines for work. But Eliza had taken to binge watching Korean dramas in an attempt to get a cheaper hobby besides shopping, and she’d definitely noticed the women in them showed off their legs. Not to mention, Henry seemed to only comment on the shortness of her skirts when he was staring at her legs. And even Freddy admired the way her calves looked in a good dress. So showing a little leg was worth it.

After all, the laws of breakups with a hot boyfriend required her to look like a completely regrettable loss.

 

* * *

From the far corner of the room, Henry watched as Eliza Doolie held onto her frosted plastic champagne glass. He’d seen her with a drink in hand plenty of times before, but for once, the drink inside had more or less remained level with the top rim of the glass. Her hair was loosely curled, cascading against her shoulders and shining warm claret under the soft lights of the room. Something about her posture made Henry wonder if something was wrong – she seemed nervous, somehow – but in that moment he knew he had to reel himself in. If he walked over to her now, he might happen to run into her just as her…sexual partner – Freddy – arrived.  

And although Henry wasn’t wholly honest with himself why he disliked Freddy, he was honest about his distaste for the way Freddy comported himself at parties. If he wanted to ask Eliza what, precisely, was bothering her, he would have to wait until later. It was for the best. Henry suspected that feeling the slight edge of a buzz at New Year’s eve was expected, and already he could feel the tingle that champagne left in the back of his throat. If he went over to ask after Eliza now, it would only make it more awkward for the both of them. Henry had already spent all of December sidestepping mistletoe, no use breaking his streak in avoiding awkward kissing-type situations now. Not that Eliza would have kissed him at the stroke of midnight, at any rate. But he certainly didn’t want to be the one witnessing the tonsil hockey between Freddy and Eliza.

Given the way champagne usually left his mouth abuzz and his cheeks heated -because the stuff was almost certainly more sugar than wine – it was also wise to avoid longer than a passing glance at the way her dress clung to her form. Doubly so because Henry had yet to forget the memory of Eliza’s heel placed neatly in the path of the elevator doors before she let his tailored black wool coat slip down over her bare shoulders and expose everything that was under her current dress.

Turning away, Henry was grateful he’d already engaged Eliza in cordial wishes for the New Year. Snubbing her intentionally would have been rude, but he’d earlier gifted her with small tokens to mark the New Year. Now it was largely unnecessary to go out of his way to find her amongst the crowd to say hello. Better still, Eliza seemed to genuinely appreciate the gifts he’d painstakingly chosen from an upscale stationery & paperie shop. They’d had something of a slightly awkward Christmas, especially given Larry’s persistent urgings that Eliza begin to sing _Last Christmas, I gave you My Heart_ whenever she passed by Henry’s office, in order to ‘kickstart the musical episode’ – whatever that had meant. Henry had unfortunately spoiled Larry’s fun by firmly refusing to sing a rendition of Mariah Carey’s _All I want for Christmas is You._  

All around, that debacle had marred the original intentions Henry had of giving Eliza a well thought out and sincere Christmas gift. So instead, he’d postponed his ‘real’ gift for New Year’s. He would never admit it, but the selection had taken him something over an hour while Henry tried to choose something that would suit Eliza’s sensibilities. Anyone could buy that woman a giftcard to one of the many stores she shopped at, and given Henry’s income, he certainly could have simply bought her whatever designer bag that some Barney’s salesperson told him was most ‘in season’.

But in working to help Eliza manage her bills, her phone, and her newfound less ‘butt’ personality, he’d thought a personal organizer and journal was more up his alley. The fountain pen he’d bought was opalescent and feminine in a way he knew Eliza would appreciate, weighed with gold accents and smooth, flowing purple ink. And the leather bound journal, in a lighter shade of lavender than the violet ink had cost nearly half as much as the extravagant pen Henry had bought. The final touch had been a practical and pretty rose pink planner that Henry would deny at all costs was actually part of a two-for-one, his and hers personal organizer sale. Even if was glaringly obvious that his warm brown leather organizer matched hers perfectly.

 What Eliza didn’t wheedle out of him while under the influence of champagne couldn’t possibly draw cause for attention.

And to distract himself further from the wandering thoughts that remained of his redheaded companion, Henry sought out a conversation with his boss. Saperstein was a pleasant man in general, when he wasn’t doing things that made Henry cringe in embarrassment. Thankfully, with no karaoke machine in sight, it looked like he would be saved from public embarrassment, at least for the short term. Saperstein was far too busy being engaged in intercourse with the company’s Chief Financial Officer, Gulliver Heinz Rolo Esq., to be altogether concerned with making Henry squirm. Something about the C.F.O.’s greater age and slightly Darth Sidious demeanor assured Henry that if all else failed, at least he wouldn’t be prone to any requests to break out into song. Possibly an invitation to the dark side, but more than likely all that would be required of him would be a series of witty rejoinders and pre-canned small talk.

It seemed safe then, to approach.

Upon reflection later, Henry would remind himself that thinking, even silently – _What’s the worst that could happen?_ – was just asking for trouble.  

 

* * *

 

Eliza wished that the time would’ve gone by faster while she waited. But unfortunately, when she wasn’t exactly actively drinking her champagne, time seemed to have crawled to an absolute stop. Worse than getting caramel stuck in her braces while trying to chew slow.

Another glance around the party confirmed that Henry was thankfully busy making awkward small talk with Saperstein. Beside the both of them was someone decrepit looking that Henry’d tried to make Eliza remember because he was “important” and “from upstairs”. In the end, all Eliza had remembered was that his last name was like some kind of candy, and he was anything but sugary goodness. The guy had tried to hit on her and he was like, a gazillion years old. Eurgh.

Across the room, Larry from R&D was rambling on about a homemade champagne fountain, and Raj from HR was also trying to flirt with someone new named Desdemona and failing miserably. The knot in Eliza’s chest loosened slightly. Even if this breakup was going to be humiliating, at least no one would be paying her any attention.

_Mental Note: Public humiliation can be avoided by letting others humiliate themselves more._

She’d totally planned to do this on the down low and in private, but of course, this was the first time she was actually going to acknowledge Freddy’s presence while in the same room as him. Freddy, of course, was the wild card in Eliza’s plan to not cause a scene. He didn’t exactly make for the most inconspicuous entrance. It was already 11:50 by the time he drunkenly stumbled towards Eliza, the party music thrumming deep underneath the projection of the ball drop in Times Square on a large screen.

When he got within arm’s length, he threw himself forwards and grinned, expecting Eliza to leap into his arms. She side-stepped him neatly and Freddy gushed out a “Babe you look overdressed!”

Eliza frowned 

“Aw, c’mon you’re not still mad, are you?” Freddy wheedled, wiggling his hips in the most embarrassing imitation of a sad puppy. Eliza considered this image, and then the last week and half. It wasn’t exactly in his favor.

“—I told you,” Freddy pressed, “Babe, if you don’t want to have an open relationship, that’s cool! But you don’t wanna settle, and I don’t wanna settle, and—“

“Freddy,” Eliza interrupted. “Right now, I’m Elle Woods. And you’re Warren, okay?” True, Eliza wasn’t a blonde, and he wasn’t even a Marilyn, much less a Jackie, but her point still stood. The metaphor was on point, and even Elle recognized that redheads were sisters in hair color rarity to blondes.

“Huh?” Freddy asked.

It was best not to question if he was confused, or just generally unaware of Legally Blonde. Eliza pressed forwards.

“We had really great chemistry, but you’re not right for me. I’m breaking up with you.”

 “Oh, I get it!” He waggled his eyebrows and Eliza began to regret her choice to do this the grown up way, and not with a text message. “We break up, then date – on and off again. So that way it’s not like weird, or slutty. Like an open-close relationship. I’m down.”

Tension built behind Eliza’s temple. Sadly, it wasn’t the champagne. _If only she hadn’t promised to herself a sober break up._

“No, Freddy. Like a ‘take a bow’ Rihanna style relationship.” Eliza explained before swallowing another sip of champagne to clear her throat. The countdown began, and the chanted _Ten_ rattled in her head before she steeled herself and plowed on.

“Like, if I’m ever going to get promoted to Director of Sales before I’m thirty, I’m going to need a boyfriend who isn’t a complete—“ _Nine_ “—pigheaded distraction—“ _Eight_ “—who acts like a bad parody of a clingy girlfriend in a sitcom!” _Seven_ \--  

“Freddy, this isn’t me afraid of being serious,” _Six_ “—this is you not being serious enough,” _Five_ “Also I’m not in love with you. Whether you believe me or not.”

 _Four_.

He had to understand that, right? Having crazy sex on the regular was not a real, serious, ‘relaysh’, no matter what Freddy thought. Not to mention the idea of sharing bathroom counter space with Freddy on a regular basis made Eliza shudder in horror every time she thought about his inability to leave his toilet seat down and rinse his sink. 

“And,” Eliza added as a last thought, “When I asked, Raj said he already shredded the HR paperwork so I like, can’t sleep with you casually. Legally speaking.”

 _Three_.

“Gonna delete your contact from my phone, Kay?” She said lightly, patting Freddy’s crestfallen cheek as he struggled to slur a proper pseudo-romantic retort.

 _Two_. Eliza turned to look over towards where Henry had been standing with Saperstein and the ancient bigwig. She took a step forwards, wondering if she could at least wish them a happy New Year after the ball drop, when something strange happened.

 It was a blur, Freddy reaching for her wrist in protest while she yanked away. She turned in time to see Henry raise his Champagne glass and the crypt keeper drop his, in a horrific slow motion that had the plastic glass bouncing across the carpet. Eliza registered the rest of the crowd shouting “ _One_!” but she heard Henry’s “Oh my god,” even over the cheering as the man between him and Saperstein crumpled to the floor, following his champagne.

 “My god,” Saperstein exclaimed, gracefully kneeling down with Henry to examine the collapsed man. Eliza rushed forwards, thankful that for once her heels were more practical than not. It was starting to look like the universe had done her a solid and prevented her from having to pull the fire alarms just to make a decent escape from the world’s worst breakup babbling. With her phone in hand, she began to dial 911.

Around her people began shouting happy New Year’s as she tried to lower herself to the floor next to Henry in her dress. The phone call felt like it was taking a million years to connect, and Eliza caught Henry checking for the older man’s pulse out of the corner of her eye.

“Is he alright?” Saperstein asked, nodding in Eliza’s direction as she mouthed 9-1-1 and pointed to her phone.

“Looks like he had a stroke,” Henry said, shooting a glance over his shoulder at Eliza. He gave her an odd look, before instructing her-- “Tell them I’m not finding a pulse.”

“ _Oh. Em. Gee_ ,” Eliza breathed as she heard the distinct tone of the 911 operator on the other end of the line pick up, “Is Mr. Candy Bar _dead?!”_

 

* * *

 

By January third, the entire office had been abuzz with the news of Gulliver Heinz Rolo Esquire – Chief Financial Officer of Kindercare – ‘s sudden and untimely stroke. In Eliza’s words, Mr. Candy Bar was definitely – O.M.G. – dead. The complete commotion it had caused had thrown off the entire New Year; especially given the panic it had caused the throngs of drunken Kindercare employees when paramedics had arrived on scene at the office party. And while he knew it was unbecoming of him to think so, Henry had rather wished he’d just stayed home instead of having to deal with the drama of New Year’s.

Of course, it wasn’t the 75 year-old Gulliver’s fault he’d died, but if Eliza’s word and his brief chit-chat with the man was was anything to go by, the man hadn’t been particularly likeable. There’d been more than a few lewd comments made in the direction of his too young secretary, and a brief prying question directed towards Henry about the – infamous Eliza Dooley – when Saperstein had stepped away to refill his glass. It was the kind of incendiary remark that Henry normally balked at when coming from superiors and admonished. Unfortunately he had no one to reasonably vent to, and given that the man was dead, Henry was quite assured it would be in bad taste to speak ill of the dead, or worse, file an HR complaint against them.

_That seemed to be the least of his problems, however._

Henry’s headache had been building for the last two days. Aside from helping Saperstein due to the sudden absence of a key member of their team, Henry had been overloaded with his own work. There hadn’t been much in the way of a respite for his New Year’s, a fact exacerbated by Henry’s unwillingness to use up precious vacation time so early into the year. Even Eliza had offered to help out around the office, claiming rather brightly that she didn’t even have a hangover, and besides which, post-New Year’s parties were apparently a drag.

Henry supposed that if being in the office meant he was able to avoid attending the hastily put together funeral with Eliza, he could call it a fair trade off. He appreciated that Eliza had made significant improvements to her decorum at public events, but still didn’t feel like quietly asking her to avoid taking a funeral selfie. Or to avoid drawing attention to the late Mr. Rolo’s wife, her plastic surgeon (and family friend), or worst of all, his mistress who was apparently (according to Eliza) totally an Anna Nicole Smith type. Henry strongly believed a straight man should remain monogamous and, if at all possible, keep a male secretary --  if only so that there would never be a moment where one’s wife Nicolette, mistress Bunny, and secretary Claudine were never in the same room together. Even if you were dead.

 _Especially if you were dead,_ Henry mused.   

Sensing that Eliza didn’t relish the idea of attending the funeral either, Henry had been careful to divvy up some of the extra work that he’d offered to help shoulder. And following that, he’d invited her to share lunch with him, which was rather purposefully at the same time as the processional was bound to leave Kindercare for the wake.

Social niceties and obligations were one thing, but Henry hardly knew the man and welcomed the opportunity to man the castle whilst everyone else was gone. For the most part, it seemed that it would be a skeleton staff, comprised of mostly himself and Eliza. And frankly, Henry welcomed the peace and quiet.

Before he could settle down with his files and lunch, however, Saperstein knocked on his office door, letting himself into the room with a commanding grace. As befitting of a man of his station and the occasion, he was dressed in a nicely pressed black suit and tie that was so crisply and cleanly cut that Henry had to admire the man’s effervescent style.

“Sir, Good afternoon,” Henry greeted, starting to stand. Saperstein waved him off, gesturing for Henry to sit back down. After a moment’s pause, Henry added, “I had thought you were going to be gone by now for the funeral procession.”

“Rest assured Henry, m’boy, I am about to leave. But I had to share some pressing news with you today that I didn’t have the chance to share on the first.”

 “Sir?” Henry said, uncertain as to what Saperstein was alluding to.

“It appears that the good Mr. Rolo was perhaps involved in some legal oops regarding Kindercare corporate financial information for this year’s upcoming projections,” Saperstein said, leaning onto Henry’s desk. His hand splayed across the ink blotter, and Henry simply blinked, pushing back in his chair. It seemed repetitive to question again, so instead Henry merely waited.

_Legal Oops?_

 Surely there was a more suitable term. One that at the very least, elucidated upon the nature of the oops in question.

Saperstein continued. “This information hasn’t been released to the rest of the employees yet, seeing as how I wanted us all to attend the funeral without prejudgment.”

His boss waved his other hand casually in the air, as if to dispel Henry’s dubious and perplexed look. “I wanted to let you know, as I immediately sought out the best legal counsel in all of New York to help the company handle this matter.”

For a moment, Henry was certain his heart stopped. In New York? But they were in So-Cal. The distance hardly seemed at all reasonable and the amount of lawyers between here and there had to have been numerous. Surely there were hundreds, if not thousands of respectable lawyers between L.A. and there. His mouth went dry.

 “Sir, you can’t mean—“

“But I do, Henry.” Saperstein smiled broadly.

“I really must protest—“ It was to no avail. Saperstein was clearly going to ignore him. He removed his hand from Henry’s desk, before clapping it to Henry’s shoulder. Henry cringed inwardly, as the move reminded him of the psychology of business body language he’d researched as part of his career development. It bespoke of authority, friendliness, and above all, aggression. Saperstein never really needed to scare anyone into doing what he wanted; his smiles and amicable behavior seemed to be more than enough. The smile painted across his face never wavered and Henry doubted he could earnestly continue to object.

  _Unfortunately._   

 “Terrance is already picking up our attorney friend from the airport as we speak. I have it on good authority he _is_ the best.” _Damn that man’s knowing look and smooth and assuring baritone._

It spelled complete disaster.

Turning to step away, Saperstein caught sight of Eliza hovering with her lunch in hand outside Henry’s office door. He looked back over his shoulder at Henry, and gave him a murderously kind look.

 “Perhaps Eliza could help you give him the grand tour.”

 

 

Brushing past Saperstein, Eliza nodded a quick greeting before ducking into Henry’s office. It didn’t take much to notice that the room was a bit tense, but given the Saps’ smile and encouraging/threatening look, Eliza wasn’t really sure what was causing the lines in Henry’s shoulders to tighten.

“Ah hah, Henry,” She said, dumping her lunch on an open spot of his desk. “What’s with the expression? Did somebody die or something?” The frown she was met with in return forced Eliza to roll her shoulders apologetically. “J.K. J.K. Sorry, I know you totes don’t like it when people come up with a little black humor—“

Henry raised a brow.

“—Because everyone is wearing black to the funeral?” Eliza offered weakly. Henry, for his part, did his best to continue to look unamused, while Eliza forcefully stabbed at his salad, judiciously eating off his plate without asking. “Well, I thought it was funny.”

Henry shook his head, the amusement finally reaching his eyes in a manner that could barely be contained. It was an expression that Eliza had come to relish: part bafflement and astonishment, and part being endeared to her despite not wanting to admit it. It was times like those that Eliza wanted more than anything for to lean across his desk and kiss him for looking so ruffled.

_Shame that she still hadn’t told him about dumping Freddy._

“Saperstein just informed me of the day’s work that needs to be done. Nothing the two of us can’t handle with a little teamwork,” Henry informed her, leaning back in his seat as she began to eat his salad. If he’d wanted to argue with her over her eating his food without so much as asking, he might’ve done it already.

 Thankfully, Henry was beginning to let Eliza get away with the little things.

 _All part of the long game._   

“But since it is our lunch break,” Henry continued, “How have you been? I trust the New Year is treating you well?”

Eliza swallowed a mouthful of spinach and iceberg lettuce. “Oh my god, Hens, where do you even get this rabbit food from? If your family owns a restaurant, why don’t they feed you real meals?”  It didn’t exactly answer the question, Eliza knew, but really! The whole mission of eating Henry’s salad had been to get him to pack something else she wouldn’t eat instead of just packing bigger salads.

She was tempted to flick some raspberry vinaigrette on him the next time he brought some in.

 “I’m choosing to ignore that question, considering you’re still eating my lunch.” Henry pointed out.

“Um, duh.” Eliza defended. “I over-ate my grocery budget and so I have to wait until payday for more lunches. Your mint dot-com thingy didn’t account for midnight Chinese takeout or pad Thai, or even oreo cookie runs.”

“Silly me,” Henry said, the edge of his lips quirking upwards.

“Anyways, apparently you don’t have to have a hulu account to watch like, foreign shows for free, so I’ve gotten hooked on Korean dramas which is like, all your fault—“

“—My fault?” Henry interrupted.

“Yeah, cuz like, first you said I spend too much on going out and then I needed to do something staying in, and I started looking up more KPop and then found out Korea makes TV shows with like, the hottest musicians, and why the hell don’t we do that?” Eliza neatly licked the oil of the salad off her lips and then waved her manicured hands across Henry’s desk. “I mean sure, Jared Leto stared in some movies, and then there was J.T. but like, when will we get something not on the Disney Channel?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Henry offered. Eliza could’ve sworn he was biting the inside of his cheek in amusement, but she carried on.

“Anyways one of the ones I’m watching is called Queen Seondok, and there’s this other Queen Mishil who’s a total evil HBIC, like, even Machiavelli would be impressed, and I think I fell asleep after my tenth episode in a row—“

“Hold up,” Henry cut in. “You’re watching Queen Seondok?” He asked in disbelief. Before Eliza could affirm that duh, that’s what she just said, Henry raised his hand again. “No, wait, more importantly – you’ve read Machiavelli?”

 “Please Henry, I _do_ work in Sales.” Eliza scoffed. And if that wasn’t enough of an answer for him, she set her fork down and shrugged. “After you so casually rejected my advances, I went to go read _The Prince_ again. All that ‘better to be feared than it is to be loved’ stuff was really clarifying. Totes just what a girl needs.” 

The mild look of horror that crossed Henry’s face at the suggestion was worth it.

“You’re terrifying, Eliza Dooley. You do know that, don’t you?” Henry asked, smiling even as he said it.

“I do have my wiles and 10% off any Victoria’s Secret purchase now through January 15th.” Eliza conceded.

“You’re also eating more than your share of my salad,” he said, in the same sort of tone Henry usually adopted when he was hoping to steer the subject away from their latest flirtations. Eliza may have been easily distracted, but she wasn’t going to be easily diverted from her goal. It would just have to be taken up next time, next lunch, with the next ridiculously packed salad.

As it was, she made a show of rolling her eyes and pushing away from their shared meal while Henry began to join in on the eating. The day before, he’d suggested he would ‘mix it up’ a bit with a fruit salad dessert, and Eliza was dying for the sugary goodness that confection entailed.

Before Henry could finish chewing however, a rich voice – one that sounded like the equivalent of how biting into a Sprinkles cupcake and licking the buttercream off your fingers felt – came up from behind her.

 “Henry Higgs accompanied by a woman during lunch?” the voice asked with an undercurrent of amusement. Eliza turned in her chair, craning to see what had caused the blood to drain out of Henry’s face. She blinked. She could’ve sworn for a moment that she was staring down a Nega-verse Henry. An alternate universe Henry -- like in that one episode of Star Trek -- except instead of having a beard, Henry’s evil clone was taller, darker, and sexier. And those lips were _definitely_ as lickable as buttercream frosting.

The man leaned against the door frame, one hand tucked into his pocket, and the other carrying a sharp leather briefcase. He was tall, exceedingly handsome with thick eyelashes and a jawline meant for nibbling. Had Charmonique been around, she might’ve had a clever catchphrase to describe the guy’s total mouthwatering status, but as it stood, Eliza was unable to do anything other than manage a slight herk noise of surprise as he peeled away from the door frame and walked towards them. Closer inspection proved that he stood above six feet, and his button down seemed to barely contain his abs. And the fit-like-a-glove tailoring of his pants --- ?

 --- _O.M.F.G._

“Now there’s an unexpected twist,” the younger man grinned. “What’s the matter, big brother?” the younger Higgs asked. “Not going to introduce us?”

 

 

 


	2. Sibling Scandal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise this will be worth its M rating eventually. Check the note I added to the last chapter re: this story's rating and genre. Thanks!

Even though petty revenge was so 2014, Eliza allowed herself a slight loophole the morning of January 1st, 2015. Petty revenge was out of the question, but tweeting hashtag throw-back-to that time when she was voted “Most Butt” in School and tagging @corynmcwatters? Well, _that_ was fair game to be witnesses by her well over 300,000 e-followers.

> **@thedoolio** : new haircut CHECK IT!!! #SELFIE #newyrnewme
> 
> **@thedoolio:** #TBT I was voted “Most Butt” at school, now look @ me!!! ;* #wokeuplikethis
> 
> **@thedoolio:** oh look who’s next 2 me in the yrbook…anyone recognize @corynmcwatters?
> 
> **@thedoolio:** funny her bio book flap says SHE was “most butt”...not in my yrbook!!!!
> 
> **@thedoolio:** #TBT I was voted “Most Butt”  & @corynmcwatters was “Most Popular” in school. Talk abt identity theft!
> 
> **@thedoolio:** should I feel flattered @corynmcwatters stole my jr high identity? LOL.
> 
> **@thedoolio:** lesson? There is only ONE eliza dooley. #FLAWLESS
> 
> **@thedoolio:** & who knows what else @corynmcwatters lies about…if she can’t even admit she was pretty much regina george?
> 
> **@thedoolio:** igss what they say is true: if they bully u it’s bc they wanna b you!!!!
> 
> **@thedoolio:** i see you @corynmcwatters  & u been read. #karma is a #bitch

 

And Eliza had thought that that tweet chain was truly going to be the highlight of the first week of the New Year. And she was never happier to be totally, completely, _wrong_.

To her right, Henry stood behind his desk, scowling. To her left, Nega-Henry was smirking. Eliza bit her lip, trying to stifle her awkward giggle that rose in response to the sudden tension in the room as the younger Higgs brother held out his hand to shake hers and introduced himself. His hand was warm, but soft to the touch, like he actually used lotion and didn’t think it was weird to clean under his fingernails like Freddy did. Just shaking his hand made Eliza acutely aware of Henry’s gaze boring into the side of her head and the vaguely threatening atmosphere he was trying to emanate at his brother.

“I’m Richard,” he said, bowing slightly. “Are you also in Henry’s department? I was under the impression he didn’t believe in favoring female secretaries, and you’re far too pretty to be dating him…” Richard asked, raising a brow towards his older brother. On the other side of the desk, Henry leaned forwards, tightly gripping his salad fork until his knuckles began to turn white. 

Eliza swallowed. As super nine as Richard ranked on the hottie scale, she also knew Henry was a little sensitive about his game (or lack thereof), and it didn’t bode well for his brother to be kicking Henry while he lay like a Julia-less, sad, pathetic puppy on the metaphorical pound-town sidelines. Even Henry’s wooing skills seemed to lack a certain something.

“Actually,” Eliza managed, quickly pulling back her hand with a forced smile, “Um, I’m the top sales rep, so I’m sort of down the hall…” She winced. Not better.

“Henry’s sort of my bestie.” Eliza blurted. “Like um, peas in a cod.”

“Peas in a _pod_ , Eliza,” Henry gently corrected. He sighed, set down his fork and began to rub at his temple. Eliza shot him a look that read as _whatever_ , while Richard watched the two of them with intense amusement, biting his lip to hold back a snerk. Henry slipped his phone from his slacks pocket, and began to slowly text a message.

“…So just friends, then?” Richard surmised.

“It may shock you, Richard,” Henry stepped in, “But most often, it is considered in poor taste to ask a complete stranger these kinds of questions—“

Whatever Henry was going to say next was cut off by Eliza’s phone as it began to blare out loudly: **_“Why can’t you see? You belong to me,”_** buzzing as Taylor Swift’s voice echoed from the depths of her purse.  Both Richard and Henry jumped slightly in surprise, turning to look over at Eliza’s (apparently singing) studded leather bag. After a moment’s pause, her phone repeated its jingle, announcing the arrival of Henry’s text. 

Eliza tossed her purse onto Henry’s desk, face flushing as she began pulling out her new planner, her wallet, her sunglasses, and her _Eos_ lip balm in an effort to find her phone.

“Sorry—“ she said, scrambling to unlock her phone. “It’s an alarm, totes gotta uhh…grab Saps’ mail. Our boss. The singing one?” Eliza declared, as she read Henry’s perfectly punctuated: 

> **Henry |** My brother has no sense of propriety. I deeply apologize.

Eliza looked up from her phone. _You are unbelievable, Henry Higgs_ , she thought, clicking the top of her phone and winking the text out of sight. He was lucky he was so damn sexy in his rolled up button down that showed off his amazing arms, otherwise she might’ve rolled her eyes a little harder.

“Actually, Henry has to come with me. Like, right now. Be back in five Richard, nice to meet you—“ she began to babble, circling around Henry’s desk to forcefully hip check Henry away from his intense glaring contest with his smouldering little brother. Henry gave her an affronted look and began to protest until Eliza turned his glare against him.

After a moment, Henry cleared his throat and agreed, “Ah, yes. I’m sorry, Richard. We’ll be right back. Bulk mail, you see. Please, have a seat. …I told Saperstein I would give you the tour.”

“If you say so,” Richard said, looking amused. He set his briefcase down over Henry’s things and made himself comfortable on the couch, watching them both carefully as Eliza rushed out of the office.

As soon as the door closed behind them and they’d turned the corner, Henry came to a halt, rounding on Eliza. “What on _earth_? Do you have my texts set to Taylor Swift? Not even something off of _1989_?”

“Okay, you listen to Taylor Swift, which, _weird_ , we’re totally reviewing that surprising fact later,” Eliza said, shaking her head, “But Henry! You had a brother. And you never told me!” Forget how gorgeous Richard Higgs was, or how hilarious it was to picture Henry casually blasting _Shake It Off_ in his car and grooving along to it  -- Eliza had totally caught Henry trying to pull one over on her.

“Taylor Swift has catchy melodies and positive and uplifting lyrics,” Henry protested. Eliza threw up a hand, stopping him cold.

“No, you – you totally acted like you were _appalled_ I said my family was all lost at sea and today in walks your _lawyer_ -lil’- bro?” It was too good to be true. “Hashtag Hypocrite Henry Higgs – _god_ I love alliterations!” Eliza said, giddiness filling her voice.

“Eliza, it is hardly the same thing to not speak overly much of a sibling who lives on the other side of the country than it is to insinuate they are, in fact, dead.” But of course, Eliza caught the guilty shift Henry made in his shoulders, and the less than totally certain way he’d proclaimed how “different” it really was. 

“Nah, I can totes _never_ let you live this one down.” It, of course, painted a whole new picture of Henry that she’d never entirely placed before. Henry, trying to pretend to be a skater when he had a little brother who knew very well he was terrible at it? Henry, with a younger brother who oozed with blatant charms and flirtatiousness? _Henry Higgs, with a little brother he seemed to absolutely and totally resent even existing, just like she felt about her older sister?_

“Because for someone who has no Facebook, not calling or emailing someone basically means they’re dead to you.” 

“You don’t know who I call or email—“ Henry began to protest.

“Whatever. I know your computer password, I figured out your phone lock, aaaandd I totally have a key to your house – you _don’t_ talk to him.” There had to have been a reason, of course, and Eliza gave Henry an expectant look, hoping he would just come outright and say why this was the case. Instead Henry shook his head.

“No. Eliza, it’s long in the past, and now we’re just two overly busy adults who live in completely different places. My brother _happens_ to have been an external contracted hire for Kindercare’s legal counsel. That’s all.” Henry said.

“That’s totally all I’m getting from you right now, isn’t it?” Eliza asked, folding her arms. It wasn’t hard to tell that Henry wasn’t going to budge, but Eliza felt compelled to ask despite herself. She could see the tension worked into Henry’s shoulders under his well-tailored suit, and the slight downwards turn of his bottom lip. Henry’s frowns usually flipped between emotionally constipated and a deeper, thoughtful brood that made Eliza want to kiss him until he knocked it off. For the moment, it was hard to place which kind of frown he was working towards, so Eliza silently placed it in the former category, while vowing to figure out what, precisely, was in Henry’s past besides siblings she didn’t know about.  

“Unless you’re going to explain why my _subtle_ text message was announced by old-school Taylor Swift…?”

“Not on your life, Higgs.” Eliza replied sweetly.

 

* * *

 

Whatever could be said about Eliza Dooley, she was not a subtle woman. Her line of questioning was, in Henry’s mind, half about removing the topic of conversation from herself, and the pop-country ringtone that had played when Henry had texted her. He’d mostly been able to avoid texting Eliza, for as much as she pushed him to explore social media more and more, he had maintained his own limits. No Facebook (too embarrassingly addicting), Instagram to like things and comment only, and when appropriate, the once in awhile text to Eliza. 

But what Henry had learned about texting and emojis and even ringtones meant that his heart had leaped just a fraction at the idea that Eliza had customized any of his messages. In Eliza’s world, it was as close as Henry could get to a personalized note. Even more thrilling was the blaring hint that maybe, perhaps somewhere still in the back of her mind was the thought that they could work together. 

 _No Fear_ , Henry reminded himself.

That adage, however, didn’t extend to the excruciating task of touring his younger brother throughout the Kindercare building, with Eliza at his side. Eliza was not subtle, and her efforts to nearly throw herself at his brother (quite probably in curiosity, but also due to his ineffable attraction) didn’t exactly pass by unnoticed. They hadn’t been on Henry’s tour for more than two minutes before Henry decided he was right to regret every minute of his brother’s presence at Kindercare. 

“I’d say that Henry has told me all about you,” Eliza began, rolling her eyes his direction, “But he completely failed to mention that you were a lawyer, Richard.” A slight edge to her words caused Henry to set his jaw, inwardly cringing at the very idea of how long Eliza was going to hold this information over his head for. 

“I’m sure he also failed to mention I was taller,” Richard said with a well-practiced laugh. Henry bit his bottom lip, keeping his gaze forwards as they rounded a row of cubicles on the way to the break room. Naturally, Richard was never above cheap shots, nor commenting on the most immediately obvious facts about both of the Higgs brothers – that Richard was taller, conventionally handsome, extremely charming to the opposite sex, and all around more fun than Henry appeared to be.

It made being in the same room as his brother insufferable on good days, and unbearable on bad ones. 

“He kinda failed to mention you existed,” Eliza supplied cheerfully. “Of course, I told him my sister was lost at sea, so I imagine he didn’t bring it up because Henry feels bad about bragging…”

“In point of fact,” Henry interrupted, spinning on his heel “Eliza’s sister is not lost at sea, she is quite firmly on land. And pregnant, last we heard.” Henry paused, watching with some satisfaction as Eliza huffed quietly beside his brother. Her warm eyes caught his gaze for a moment, and Henry found himself picturing once again, how they would look accompanied by chubby cheeks and darker hair. Little _Red-headed Koreans_.

Henry’s revelry was quickly interrupted, however. His brother glanced back at Eliza, who continued to appear unaffected, and then back to Henry. For a brief moment, Richard fisted his hand, pressing his thumb to his lips in calculating thought. It was an unsettling move, chiefly because Henry had come to recognize exactly why his brother had adopted it.

While other men leaned their cheeks against their index fingers, Richard had always used the most impossibly male model-esque poses to signify his deep contemplation of his thoughts. It was the move of a preening peacock, one who had, on more than one occasion, spread his feathers in front of any woman that might have otherwise cast a wayward glance at his older brother.

 Henry was practical, and Richard craved attention.

“Still looking forwards to your own soccer team, big brother?” Richard asked casually, leaning against the wall of the hallway. “Henry always had aspirations for a cadre of little tykes of his own.  As for myself, I’d prefer to go on without the preschool and pudding set.”

 Yet another dig. Richard had immediately honed in on Eliza’s sparkle – the remaining verve of her persona that contrasted with Henry’s own outward demeanor. And that glimmer was one that Richard recognized as an opportunity - a means by which he could exploit Eliza’s attentions and possibly even distract her. Worse, Henry thought, he’d so casually made all the same assumptions Henry had made after first knowing Eliza – and then compounded it all by assuming that was the extent of her personality.

Eliza gave a tinny laugh in response, something Henry recognized as one of her many fake laughs, but couldn’t place its true meaning. He sighed, rolling his shoulders. “Yes, Rich. I do, in fact, intend to continue a legacy of kicking your ass at soccer  -- football for those abroad – because what else is family for besides a little healthy old school rivalry?”

“Wait, Henry, you play soccer? Like forrealsies?” Eliza asked, before she shook her head and added “I mean I like pudding so now that I know how to keep kids alive for like more than two hours, I dunno. – But seriously? Soccer?” 

“I’ll have you know, soccer is a perfectly respectable sport as any, albeit less popular than say, basketball—“ Henry began, adjusting his cuffs. Soccer was still a gentleman’s sport, even if his brother remained less coordinated at it.

“Henry’s always been annoyed that instead of following in his merit scholarship footsteps, I received a basketball scholarship to Duke,” Richard supplied, pushing himself up off of the wall he’d been leaning against. He gave Henry another insufferable crooked grin, before winking at Eliza.

Henry bit the inside of his cheek, unable to hide the annoyance from his face. Eliza looked from him to his brother, as if calculating the appropriate way to make a sly comment. A smirk crossed her lips, and she tapped her manicured nails against her studded phone case.

“I’d love to watch a game,” Eliza said, leaning forwards conspiratorially. 

“Of basketball?” Henry asked dubiously. “Or soccer?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Eliza said primly. “After the mud run debacle though, I think it’d be totes fun to watch a little brotherly competition.”

This transformed Richard’s smirk, his eyes widening in slight shock. “A what run? _Henry?_ ”

“And over here,” Henry continued walking down the hall, pointedly ignoring his overly curious little brother, “is the break room,” he said with a hint of smug satisfaction over his brother’s surprise.

“Which is not nearly as interesting as Henry wrestling Freddy in a mudpit and ending up with some _killer_ bruises,” Eliza added helpfully, low heels clicking across the break room floor.  

 

* * *

 

Eliza could’ve updated her twitter at least twenty times in the time it took their tour of Kindercare of get from the break room back to Sam Saperstein’s emptied office. As tempting as it was, however, she kept her thumb from hovering over the twitter app, choosing instead to watch Richard and Henry glare wildly back and forth at each other. It wasn’t until Richard began to pull off his sport coat that Eliza came to a sudden stop, half running into Henry as she narrowly avoided Richard’s elbow.

She caught herself on his blazer’s shoulder, fingers digging into the light blue wool. Henry gave her a startled look, catching her elbow in order to steady her. His fingers wrapped around hers briefly, warm grip keeping her from falling. The drumming sensation in her chest sped up, and Eliza swallowed hard as Henry helped her right herself. It was obvious that Richard was staring at them both, but only Henry’s gaze got under her skin. Eliza wet her lips unconsciously, before she cleared her throat and gave both Higgs brothers a nervous giggle.

“Whoops.” Eliza said belatedly. “Uhhh, my B,” she continued, scrambling to brush off Henry’s rumpled blazer, picking at invisible lint on his shoulder. Eliza lingered a moment too long, wondering if the electricity she felt was just in her head, or Henry’s need for more static-cling. Over Henry’s shoulder, Richard cast her another smouldering gaze, one that caused Eliza’s stomach to flip.

_Was this what unwanted attention felt like?_

The exchange of glances wasn’t lost on Henry, and Eliza withdrew her hand quickly. She reviewed the facts in her head quickly as both brothers stared at her. She hadn’t texted Charmonique yet. There was a Nega-Henry hottie standing with his jacket in hand, next to real this universe Henry. A Henry-lookalike that was arguably taller, with a more angular jaw, equally thick hair and long lashes, pouty lips, and a distinct awareness of how damn attractive he was.

 With all of that -- he was _still_ like a more sophisticated version of Freddy.

 _Ugh_ , Eliza thought, twisting her bracelets around her wrist, _she’d learned her lesson about gelled hair and pretty faces already_. Even more unsettling – Eliza realized that Henry’s sexy younger brother did totally nothing for her. But there was a way to make it happen –

“--Hey, Hens,” she said abruptly, breaking the staring contest and silence, “I’m so hungs, and am about to like, um, swoon or whatever it is which is why I tripped—“ rambling, ugh, “I’m just gonna borrow Rich here for a sec and run downstairs to grab some noms, kay thanks byeeeeee.”

Before Henry could protest, Eliza had grabbed Richard’s silk blend sleeve, dragging the taller Higgs away from Saperstein’s office and Henry’s blissful ignorance of the dullness of his own tour. The twitch in Henry’s eyebrow was worth it, although she could have done without Richard’s overly pleased look that Eliza was already pawing him.

 _Gross_.

“Eliza—“ Henry started, before she tossed her hair over her shoulder to glance back at Henry with a wicked look.

 “Don’t worry Henry, you can finish showing your brother around Kindercare, but I can show Richard the eats.”

Given enough time, she could probably also corner Richard and get what she really wanted from him. The fact was that while Richard had utterly kissable lips and to-die-for broad shoulders, Eliza saw him and saw an unfortunate six foot two version of her sister, but Henryfied. It was time to dig in and fish for dirt.

Richard stumbled for the first two steps, but he caught himself quickly. When he managed to catch up with her stride, long legs catching up to her fast pace, Eliza let go of his sleeve. She didn’t need to look over at him to realize that Richard was trailing too closely, in a manner which was obviously supposed to be flirtatious. If Henry was a tied up and buttoned down sparkler, his brother was overly eager and unbuttoned like the front cover of a trashy romance. It was hot, but too attentive, too polished, and too expectant. Richard was the right well-dressed man for a club grind, but he was half a Henry, and therefore not good enough.

Love was _so_ complicated.

Seeing as how she hadn’t abandoned her other New Year’s resolutions, Richard was the perfect secret weapon for prying into Henry’s locked mind.

“I’m starved.” Richard said amicably, “You wouldn’t believe how many lectures Henry has run over-time on growing up,” he said, bowing slightly to speak closer to Eliza’s ear. His voice carried a slight lilt to it as he spoke, a shimmer of amusement lacing his words.

“See, I need to know everything about growing up with Henry,” Eliza replied as she fought back rolling her eyes. “But first, we’re ditching the company halls and heading straight for the place across the street.”

“You want to know about _Henry?_ ” Richard said, a puzzled look crossing over his chiseled features. “You can’t be serious, can you?”

“God does every Higgs come armed with that judgey face?” Eliza huffed, pushing open the front glass doors. 

The instant she did, Eliza regretted it. Before the locked doors to Kindercare stood Freddy in his funeral attire, arms outstretched above his head holding up his iphone and collapsible speakers. Eliza’s hands flew up to her mouth as she stood beside Richard in the doors.  Freddy’s swoop was ungelled, his shoulders dropped, and his John Cusack theme song soared up over his rumpled figure.

 “—Eliza!” Freddy cried, lifting his speakers higher. “Baby, come back!”

“Aw shit— _ake mushrooms_.” Eliza hissed, elbowing Henry’s little brother at her side without a second thought to ward off any smart comments.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Chapter one of Office Party Scandal, the #SELFIE K!drama-esque AU. For updates, track #selfie kdrama au on tumblr. 
> 
> For those wondering: the younger Higgs brother is "as played by Daniel Henney" actual kdrama/korean american actor.
> 
> This fic is rated M for mature. Yes, this means there will be a(t least one) sex scene eventually (but not right away, sorry!). For all intents and purposes, reading this fic should feel exactly like reading any other sort of romance novel you might buy at the bookstore. I stress romance, and not erotica -- this fic is going to be heavy on the flirting, come ons, innuendos, jokes, sexual tension, and actual romance, but it's also going to have a good ending and sex. I say this because when I pick up a romance novel, that's more or less what I expect, and would definitely pass on it if I thought I was accidentally stumbling into a Greek tragedy instead. There is no rocks fall, everyone dies. This is totally what it says on the tin. This isn't a spoiler, this is just the genre! I call this the "Kdrama au" not just because Henry and his brother are Korean Americans, but because Selfie is unfortunately cancelled and a short, contained series, a la Kdramas. My genre inspirations are rom-com Kdramas, Selfie's tone itself (for TV), with the added bonus of being able to cop Romance novels as inspiration and be a little more raunchy and absurd. Hope you enjoy!


End file.
